


little blue cups

by 30toseoul



Series: boys on the floor [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drugged Sex, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, OT4, Protectiveness, Slavery, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30toseoul/pseuds/30toseoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John, behave yourself," Teyla said quietly.  Her other hand settled around the back of his neck and he arched into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little blue cups

"I feel like I'm at a Cher concert," Rodney mumbled, and John had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Ronon only rolled his eyes and ignored them, like he always did when they made an Earth-specific comment that couldn't be quickly explained. John was looking forward to explaining Cher later, though. It seemed that most cultures had an equivalent for these things. He didn't think he'd ever forget Ronon laughing and doing the Satedan version of a runway twirl after they'd watched _The Adventures of Priscilla: Queen of the Desert_.

Explanations could wait. Rodney was right -- these people were fucking crazy and they really liked their feathers -- but it was still nice. Lots of swirling colors, lots of people hitting the beat and moving close and easy. John had almost forgotten that they were playing at being Teyla's slaves for the negotiations. The dance club (or whatever it was) had lower, wider chairs for the dignitaries, tucked into little alcove areas along the wall, and the three of them were sitting much closer to Teyla than during supper.

John was still trying to pretend that he hadn't lost the scuffle for prime position. Ronon was tucked between Teyla's legs and leaning his head back between her breasts, looking much too smug. But it was okay, really. He and Rodney had retaliated by shoving and draping themselves over Ronon and curling up to lean against Teyla's sides, and it was just... nice. Comfortable.

The blue liquor was making it even nicer.

He drank another one slowly, closing his eyes and licking slowly at Teyla's thumb below the rim of the cup. "Those are nice," he said, and tipped his face up to kiss her neck when she turned away. "More?"

"John, behave yourself," Teyla said quietly. Her other hand settled around the back of his neck and he arched into it.

"Don't want to," he said. When he opened his eyes, Rodney was finished with his own cup and actually _sucking_ on Teyla's thumb, and that just wasn't fair. "Hey," he said petulantly, "I didn't get to do that," and then he watched as Teyla pulled her thumb out of Rodney's mouth with a wet popping sound, watched her tracing her fingers along Rodney's jaw as he blinked up at her. "Well, okay. Keep going," John added in an undertone, and felt Teyla's other hand tighten on his neck.

"Be quiet, please," she said -- and yeah, that was really doing it for him. They were only playing at this but he was drunk, dammit, they were playing and he could react however he wanted.

Which seemed to be dropping his head to nuzzle apologetically at her breast, and then to let her push him away.

It was no problem, though. The least problem in the history of... ever, because she was leaning forward and trailing her fingertips up Ronon's chest and he was breathing deep, leaning back and closing his eyes, tipping his head back and opening for the cup she pressed against his mouth.

Sometime in the middle of Ronon's second swallow, John started to realize that the blue cups had more than alcohol. He didn't usually get rock-hard just from staring at Ronon's throat.

"Ah, Teyla--" he started, and then Rodney was sucking in a breath and saying rapid-fire, "Oh, fuck, Teyla? I think this planet likes to drug their slaves and--yes, I knew I was right about them raping us in our beds, do you know how fast we can get to the gate? It needs to be very fast because I don't think, I mean I can feel this stupid blue drink and I think it works incredibly--"

"Ambassador?"

John was hardly aware that Rodney had shut up, because Teyla's hand had moved back to tighten on his neck and he closed his eyes automatically, leaning into her, and the conversation above him seemed distant.

"--would enjoy if they joined the performance very much. They are--"

"--do understand, but not our--"

"--yes, if you wouldn't, we are--"

" _No,_ " Teyla said, and John jerked under her hand, trying to look up. "No, but thank you. We are not as open as your people."

"Yes, of course," and someone above John was nodding in agreement. "We understand."

There was a weird scattering of minutes where John kept pushing into Teyla's palm, and stretching up until he was tucked against her neck. "Are we okay?" he whispered.

"Yes, John," and her fingers were carding lightly through his hair, brushing his neck, and she was turning aside to say sharply, "Rodney, we are _fine_ , would you please stop?"

It turned okay fast, after that. John looked up to see that someone had drawn a curtain in front of them, closing off their alcove. He could still hear the music and the murmuring crowd, still smell the drink, the smoke that was wafting through the air. He knew that people were moving just beyond them, but they were suddenly as alone as their quarters back in Atlantis.

He knew it for sure when he blinked hard and focused on Teyla kissing Rodney, her hand tipping his mouth firmly up to meet hers.

"Yes," Rodney said in a thick voice, when she let him go. "Yes, that's good. We're safe?"

"We are fine," Teyla agreed.

"I'm believing this because you're the only sober person here. I hope you know that," Rodney said. John found himself watching the frown lines on Rodney's face, wishing they would go away, when suddenly Rodney gave a ragged gasp and his face went slack with surprise, and John peered around to see that Ronon was rubbing the heel of his hand between Rodney's legs.

"John." Teyla was still petting his hair. "I believe Rodney could use something to help him relax."

"Huh?" John said absently, watching Rodney's hips thrust against Ronon's hand and then, "Oh. Sure."

He was feeling too relaxed (and to be honest, drugged out of his senses) to move very much, so John settled for flopping inelegantly across Ronon's lap and mouthing at the outline of Rodney's dick, hard under the material and Ronon's touch. He let his eyes fall shut and listened to Rodney's unsteady breathing as Ronon opened his pants.

It was good in all kinds of ways when Ronon moved his hand to settle on John's neck, pushing his head down to take Rodney's cock to the back of his throat. He hummed contentedly and heard Rodney's choked moan, felt Ronon's fingertips spread wide over the base of his skull to control the rhythm.

He didn't need to open his eyes to feel Teyla watching them, watching him, and it made him angle his head sideways to give a better show.

He lay there for what seemed like hours, sucking and swirling his tongue and letting Ronon set the depth until Rodney was whimpering nonstop and helplessly, and sometime in the middle of it John felt Ronon's other hand slide down the back of his own pants, a finger rubbing along the crease of his ass and then pushing slowly inside. When Rodney arched up and came in his mouth, he came almost automatically himself, tightening down around Ronon's finger and pushing against Ronon's lap, feeling Teyla's hand curve against his throat as he swallowed and swallowed.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in the Livejournal **oddball_sga** community on 08 March 2007.


End file.
